


The chase

by Griffinous56



Series: Griffin's 2P AU collection [1]
Category: Senyuu. (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 2P, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Because it’s 2P..., Canon-Typical Violence, Considerate amount of fluff, Depression, Honestly this setting is so out there I should’ve made this into an Original Work instead, Hurt/Comfort, I mean it, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Light Angst, M/M, No beta we die like Alba, Out of Character, Suicidal Thoughts, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unreliable Narrator, identity crisis, maybe? - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:20:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29563185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Griffinous56/pseuds/Griffinous56
Summary: “If you're lost out where the lights are blindingCaught and all the stars are hidingThat's when something wild calls you home, home.If you face the fear that keeps you frozenChase the sky into the oceanThat's when something wild calls you home, home.”Something Wild - Lindsey Stirling“Uống nhầm một ánh mắt, cơn say theo nửa đời.”Thục Linh - Báo tuổi trẻ 2014Or in which a person is lost.
Relationships: 2P Alba/2P Creasion, Alba Frühling/Ross | Creasion
Series: Griffin's 2P AU collection [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2178747
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	The chase

**Author's Note:**

> One of the 2P AUs of mine, finished! Do keep in mind that most of the setting is vastly different from both usual 2U setting and a lil’ bit out there, and also the “Out of character” tag is real. There’s a lot more in the note, but you can read them at the end, I guess.
> 
> Some of the settings to be aware of are:  
> -Magic is generalized now  
> -Demon world doesn’t exist. Rchimedes just yeeted everything into the normal world, people gotta deal with it  
> -Not really explored in this but human and demon coexist  
> -Some more background on this 2P Creasion can be found in my “Of the old script you always rehearse” but it’s vague so I don’t blame you for not understand it. If anything, it’s my failure as a writer if you can’t figure it out...  
> -This’s actually the AU of an AU actually. To be more specific, the reincarnation of my 2P Demonverse. But you only know about that AU if you know me on Twitter _(:3 」∠)_. You can read this as its own story tho, no worry!

**1/**

Alba didn’t have anything besides itself.

When it came too, it was alone in this godforsaken countryside, looking blankly at a notebook filled with chicken scribble it didn’t remember so well. The sky was purple, the wind was pleasant and everything was at peace.

It realized it didn’t know its mother or father, nor did it have any sibling. All that left for it was its name.

_Alba._

When it went asking, seeking, all the answer it got was that it was an orphan, living by itself in a small house by a mine behind a mountain. It didn’t press for more, for it was quite content with what it had then.

Later, when Alba was old enough to enroll in a hero class in the capital, it looked for its name meaning within the castle's vast library.

_Dawn._

Alba didn’t get why its parents would name it in such a fragile and romantic name, but just like when it accepted being an orphan, it accepted the name as its definition, carving a place for itself in this world. Curiously, Alba never had trouble with anything, learning new languages, mathematics and developing its fighting skill became its second nature. The way it always was lucky enough to get food in its stomach or never had to endure discomfort for too long before its problem magically resolved itself despite being just yet another orphaned child in this huge world. Alba welcomed it as luck, as one good blessing it had in the life it led, a fair equivalent exchange for how it had nothing to start with, and that was enough for Alba’s young self to know.

Later, Alba came to know that to have something, one must pay the price in kind - and that, Alba supposed, explained the extraordinary luck it processed. Even the strong, when cruelly rip something from the weak, must carry the weight of guilt and hatred. But it didn’t want anything, not even strength or this life. All it had was itself and to own oneself you needn’t pay anything. And even when it didn’t want this life, it didn’t hate it, treated the life it had as its opportunity for seeking out new things. And maybe, _maybe,_ in its journey in life, it later could find something it wants to trade its whole life for.

Even after knowing all that, Alba’s life was still frankly blank.

**2/**

Alba spent its youth studying magic. Not because it thought having magic would be useful, but because doing so wouldn’t feel like it was wasting its life away. Thanks to its luck, Alba always managed to get its hand on most up-to-date articles about magic, learning a thing or two from magic-users that crossed its house by chance. Its controls over mana stream got good enough, the news about a potential talent mage reach the king’s ears from a wasteland away.

The blood-red of Alba’s irises swirled ever so gently as it read the recruitment letter.

Alba signed up for the magic class in the king’s castle when it turned ten, studying under generations of Great Mages from across the land. 

It started to diligently and seriously study magic because it was the only thing it could easily grasp. Magic was born in the form of mana, initially fueled by “Ma”, by clearing one mind and drawing more from emotions from the surrounding. For the first one, its mind wasn't occupied with much to begin with. The second part was easy, many faces around it bore many things, from happiness to sorrow and seething anger, so Alba surrounded itself with many kinds of people. It could mimic other emotions quite well: a big curl on the mouth and a slight curve on the eyes for happiness, the downturn of the lips corner with furrow brown stands for confusion or concern, shifting on one leg to another for uneasiness, and so on. It could mimic well, but couldn’t quite do it right itself, so it never mingled well in the crowd and for Alba, it was enough. And so it sought, it learned, from sparking fire to growing trees and a few weeks of practice, manipulating time for a short period; though that one ability it hid away from everyone else. Magic’s limit was imagination and at that, it excelled, for its thought alone could burn the sky.

Many called it a magic prodigy for mastering many kinds of spells after just fifteen months of studying, no matter how small, simple, _insignificant_ a spell it could conjure. _No one could’ve grasped the nature of Mana in such a short time, they said, Nobody could just understand the extragalactic nature that was magic’s beauty itself, they said_ . Humans feared it, demons loved it. But Alba didn’t agree, for it understood magic far better than it knew humanity and so it _understood,_ for both magic and mana worked in different logics and reality the rest of the world had come to know. It came to find beauty in glittering sparkles and elegant runes. It didn’t compare its skills with some other great mages it was on par with or arch demons prowling about because it was pointless anyway.

Besides, casting spells did bring some enjoyment to Alba’s dull life, no matter how small it was. Magic and mana, out of bound and beyond normal comprehension, just like itself, and Alba indulged in that small comfort.

It started to harbor a fragile hope of this, somehow, could be the way for it to find what it was looking for. 

The idea was alluring.

**3/**

It turned seventeen, had drained all the knowledge of mana it possibly could from books and great mages it could find.

The thing it was seeking for still wouldn’t appear.

Lost interest, it dropped the whole prodigy magician farce. No more exorcism in haunted villages or heeding the king’s orders at developing spells, passing the duty to its subordinate. For using magic or not, its life was still blank all the same, lazily drifting away. 

**4/**

_Maybe the thing it was seeking was beyond the purple sky above?_

Alba thought of constructing itself a pair of wings simply to try, just to scrap the idea later on. If the one Alba sought was up there then it would’ve fallen long ago. For this world was greedy and simple with ever-hungry maw demanding payment, letting nothing rise from its silent grave.

It gave up seeking for below too, for there was nothing else lower or beyond this twisted reality which was the grotesque dull world it grew up in.

**5/**

When it was nearing nineteen, the king assigned it as his “Hero”, directly under his orders, along with several others it didn’t know.

The scenario was simple like taken from an outdated fairytale script. The first demon king Rchimedes, sealed long ago by the legendary hero Creasion, had awoken from his long sealing sleep, now ravaging the world with his horde of devious demons, threatening the fragile alliance and peace between mankind and demon alike. Some of the great demons had even switched sides, hellbent on destroying the world. Their job was to depart on a quest to take down the demons and then, annihilate the demon king himself. They had to, for they all were the descendants of the legendary hero Creasion from the age of yore themselves, in name if not in blood; the very first hero who fought and sealed the demon king, sacrificed for the sake of the world at the expense of his own life; _“Like a true Martyr”,_ some book would quote, and Alba usually found itself snort at that line. All of them “Heroes” were promised bountiful wealth, exceptional glamour—

Alba almost couldn’t suppress a yawn as the King read his decree, standing in the first line of the king’s personal chosen as it was.

Alba didn’t care for the perils nor the rewards, for it interested in none. But it still went, a hero emblem imprinted on the silver pendant on its chest, the sapphire on it shining like a beckoning star despite Alba’s dark appearance like a mockery, for there was nothing else interested enough for it to do. Alba didn’t care about the crap that was world peace anyway but still treated this as another opportunity. So, with a carefully crafted smile and a lance in hand, it departed, alone into wonder and beyond.

_But its heart throbbed and longed for an unknown reason. Painfully aware of how there should be something, someone by its side, of a missing red gaze watching from above_.

**6/**

Halfway into the journey, Alba started to _think, then realized_ , looking down as the slowly vanishing form of a nameless slain monster under its silver blade.

Could it be that the one thing it was seeking was beyond the boundary of this world? In the dimension where nothing of the living world could exist?

It could be, _it had to be_ , for its existence was a deviant and otherworldly itself, _not belong to this world_. It was only logical, Alba thought, that the thing it was seeking for was in the afterlife all this time.

_Alba wondered. Alba thought. Alba sought._

_Alba started to realized._

If the one it was seeking for was truly beyond this world, then it must find a way to depart. Not because it was unsatisfied with a hero lifestyle, not even because it wanted to die nor in pain, but simply because it wanted to. If its life had been all the same this whole time, then the afterlife surely would be no different, Alba agreed with itself.

But—

But—

_But—_

But going to the afterlife was no easy task and mostly because it was a one-way ticket. Asking the demon and human it countered along the way was no help, especially the demon king, for the devil’s deed was to do exactly the opposite of what humans want. Also, dimensional traveling wasn’t just someone one could carelessly do without thinking of consequences.

So it returned to the way of magic and research, the one thing it understood better than life itself.

**7/**

Alba stared at the still body on the ground. Alba observed.

Out of nowhere, in this wasteland of the world, a dead body appeared.

The worn, battered thing in front of it was no strange thing to Alba. After all, it was used to death. Death of a monster, impaled on the pointy end of its lance, bleeding inky black before vanishing into thin air. Death of a human, marred with broken bones and blistered skin, lung choking on crimson blood, having the very thing keeping them alive killing themselves or in some cases, having their body torn and mangled beyond recognition. Those were grim sights. The thing was, death in this world was to be expected, as natural as the purple sky above. And yet…

It looked at the body and pondered.

And yet it couldn’t bring itself to walk away from this particular corpse. Or at least that was what it thought.

Crouched down, Alba lifted a hand to the corpse’s chin and lifted its head, observing the bruised face. Pale skin, a common trait for human males, and long dark locks covering most of their ghastly features. _Meh_ , it thought in disappointment, just another nameless body for Alba to loot in its journey. Probably not much seeing how all this corpse had been a tattered cloak with an article of equally ragged clothing, no weapon in sight. There was dry blood tainted the cloak spotted black but other than that, no other visible injuries. 

To fall in the middle of nowhere like this. Such a pitiful fate.

It had no time to observe any further because the corpse’s arm suddenly shot up and seized its wrist. Alba did not jump, a hand hovering on a dagger strapped to its belt. Instead, it simply lifted one eye brown, looked down at the human face.

_Still alive it seems._

“Who… are you—,” the words tore through the human vocal cords, croaking and hoarse like it hadn’t been used for eternity, before breaking off into severed hackings it almost looked like they were coughing up their lungs. The human beneath tightened the grip on its wrist to the borderline of pain, joints grinding painfully onto each other under the skin; still, they wouldn’t move nor tug their head away from the hold it had on their chin. “Where am I?”

Yet, despite the hostile tone, something familiar about the voice pulled at Alba’s heartstrings. 

Bracing itself, Alba put on the best smile it could hold and roughly jerked their chin back up to stare directly in their eyes because that _person wouldn’t want it to behave like a weakling after all this time, wouldn’t they?_

Greeting it was a stony expression marred on ghostly pale skin, lips corners pulled into a silent snarl revealing sharp canines and their narrowing eyes—

Alba took in a sharp inhale, taken aback.

A sharp blue. Such a beautiful, clear, _ugly hue._

_(It was all wrong._ Whispered the back of Alba’s consciousness.

_But wasn’t it supposed to be this way?_ Whispered back another voice it refused to recognize. _)_

**8/**

The stranger hastily jerked their chin off Alba's hand and properly growled this time in a more threatening tone, with an intensity that should be familiar but wasn't. “The hell do you want?” 

Unknowingly, Alba had been waiting for an overreaction. A kick in a shin, perhaps, or maybe a jab between its rib followed by a sneer or an insult. None of those came, to Alba’s disappointment, then Alba was surprised at its disappointment because what sort of person expected that kind of reaction from a stranger they just met, even if Alba itself _might_ have some inappropriate actions first? So, in an attempt to salvage the situation, Alba beamed at them the best friendly expression it had and said: “Ah, so you _are_ alive _and_ conscious after all!

Let me fix that.”

Then, promptly and unaccountably, knocked them on right on their nape before they could even react.

_Huh_ , it thought to itself while watching the body unconscious form, remembered that light jolt they had before being knocked out by Alba, _You’re not supposed to get hit by such a trivial move._

_Could that person be exhausted to the point they couldn’t move?_

_Could that person drop their guard simply out of confusion?_

It didn’t know the answer to those questions. Didn’t want to.

All it could feel was an annoyance rearing its ugly face. 

Not what it was looking for.

**9/**

“...Let me rephrase it one more time,” the blond girl sitting across said, massaging her temple tiringly. “First, you found a dead body out of nowhere, so you went ahead and took a look.”

“Eyup.”

“And turned out they were not that dead after all, so you jerked their head up to take a closer look.”

“Uhuh.”

“But they got offended by your action and demanded you to explain yourself.”

“That’s right.”

“...But instead of a apologize, you knocked them out just so you could take them with you?”

“So you did follow my story after all!” Alba jabbed a thumb at Hime-chan, sounded pleased that it did manage to get its message across after all.

“Why would you sound so pleased with yourself!? You’re clearly in the wrong here!”

“But Hime-sama,” the brunette woman who had been listening to their conversation since the beginning started to approach the girl from behind. Setting a hand on Hime-chan’s shoulder, she said. “But ain’t that the way you suppose to answer to corpses? You knock them out for good, that way you won’t get bitten and turn into a zombie.”

“That’s right—.”

“No! No, you are supposed to help them get to somewhere safe and clear their confusion, not confuse them more and injure them any further! And what’s with that, there’s no such thing as a zombie! Don’t you dare wrap me around your finger with your illogical words this time around Alba, Alles!”

Blinking comically, Alba said: “But Hime-chan, didn’t you say when we began our journey that if I found someone in critical condition, I should get them out of harm's way first before treating their wounds? I mean I did contact you on my way back, seeing how you’re the best at our Hollis class after all?”

“...Yes. Yes, I suppose…”

“...Hang on, Alba-san. Weren’t you also aced and got a degree in Hollis class too?”

“Uhuh.”

“Then you could’ve just, get them to the nearest town and heal them yourself? Instead of waiting for me for a whole day and avoiding the paper, customs and bills?”

...Urk. She got it.

“Tehee.”

“DON’T YOU DARE ‘TEHEE’d ME!!!”

**10/**

_Truth was, Alba didn’t know why it brought the stranger back in the first place. Maybe it was because out of its sheer instinct of human behavior at helping its kin. Or might be because it somehow couldn’t bear the thought of leaving them on their own devices, alone and confused. But it soon decided to not dwell too much on that matter because if it dug too deep, it would involve the touchy subject of being human and the thing always caused it a headache._

_So, for now, it settled for watching the stranger's face, deep in their slumber as they were, and monitoring the unsteady, shallow rises and falls of their chest. It reasserted the injuries: three broken ribs, one fractured knee, a cracked thigh bone, some broken fingers, and a shattered wrist, if not counting a concussion or two. Nothing it or Hime-chan’s healing magic couldn’t handle._

_Unconsciously, it moved its gaze down the bare left wrist and then the other one. No strange marking except for several thin white scars. I didn’t know why it felt disappointed, but it did._

_As wrong as the setting itself._

_They were_ them, _but not._

_Just like how it was an Alba, but not._

_Its thought progress skidded to a halt before Alba abruptly got up and out of the suddenly suffocating room._

**11/**

“Hey, Hime-chan.”

“Yes?” The silver-haired girl replied without turning her eyes away from the human laying on the bed, a soft green glow of mana on her hovered hands scanning over the injuries. Alles being the usual Alles it knew, was crunching snacks loudly on her side and sometimes adjusting the stranger’s limp when asked.

“You think I still can register for a soldier position in my party?” 

The princess halted then finally, _slowly,_ turned her head at Alba, and said. “Why so sudden?” An incredulous expression on her face.

“Just a thought,” it shrugged and continued. “It’s been a month since my departure, isn’t it? And my luggage is getting a bit too much for one person to handle you see—.”

“But Alba-san you have pocket dimension spell—.”

“—And foremost, I’m on a quest! A quest you see! And a hero party can’t just consist of one member, just take a look at your squad or Foyfoy’s—.”

“But Alba-san you had requested father about not forming a hero party with a chosen royal soldier—.”

“—And so it’s become an inconvenience, see. Because sometimes people mistook me for a mob boss or some sort of Messiah due to my magic ability you see—.”

“Now you’re just getting cocky. Also no, I don’t see! And none of those reasons explain why you suddenly want a party member right now!”

At Alba’s unimpressed raised eyebrow, Hime-chan finally conceded and fell back into her chair. Rubbing her forehead, at least it’s not babbling anymore. “Yes, you could still ask for an official party member, it helps that you’re among the rank of king’s handpick too so it’s easier to submit the form.”

“But the thing is,” cracking nervous eyes at Alba, she continued. “It’s been months since the dispatch ceremony so the remaining unregistered royal soldiers were sent on their respective missions already. So even if your submission is approved, it would take days, months to gather soldiers, review reports, tasks evaluation, and so on. And that was before the HR could pick a soldier for you—.”

“And what if I already have someone in mind?”

The princess paused both her words and animated hands. She took a long hard look at Alba's now nonchalant face before glancing back at the unconscious form lying on the bed. Things clicked, Alles broke a smirk, Hime-chan pulled a face of despair and all Alba offered was a reassuring smile that didn’t feel assured at all because _no, no Alba-san don’t drag an innocent civilian into your journey please_ and Alba, good nature but chaotic Alba who was also frightening efficient with magic, replied with his smile _no._

“Also Hime-chan. Heal everything but the leg please.”

“NO, I WOULD NOT ASSIST YOUR CRIME—.”

**12/**

_“Why him?”_

_“Hm?”_

_Alles would catch up with it a while later into its journey, in the middle of the night, and open their conversation just like that, a few hours before dawn so they would depart on their separate way. She would hold up bubblegum as a peace offering before settling beside it on a fence, a cigarette in hand as it chewed and gazed at the starry sky above; the campfire behind them crackled as a gust brewed up, carrying away ember and ash. Alba and Alles weren’t exactly friends, see, not like how Alba came to know and put up with the princess’ shenanigans whenever he could or how the princess was the only one who didn’t put him on a high pedestal with many expectations - not yet, at least - but they knew each other long enough to appreciate the company on a cold night such as this. And because he was one of the few who wouldn’t complain about her addiction to smoking._

_It took a while for Alba to answer, absentmindedly blowing bubbles. “Nope, I’ve forgotten the reason now.”_

_“...I just thought it would be a bit fun with someone else around. That’s all.”_

_Alles hummed at Alba's carefully crafted smile, the sound carried away in the breeze._

_They both exchanged a few words, a jab here and there to lighten up the mood between the night owls. Short and simple. It didn’t take long before Alles yawned and waved dismissively at Alba before turning in. And Alba kept being its truest self possible, staying up until the fire got lower into an ember before rolling out its sleeping bag besides its chosen soldier. It should be just another uneventful night._

_Except when its soldier shifted closer to its bag in his sleep for the body heat, mumbling inaudible words right before it finally decided to close its eyes._

**13/**

“But you know, Hime-sama told me something about that person you brought back just now.”

“Hmm?”

“Nothing important,” she flashed her canines at it, sharp and white. “It was just that person might have some problems with memories. That’s all,” Alles said, a finger twirled by her head.

Alba nodded. Nothing important.

They were not the one it’s looking for, anyhow.

**14/**

The conversation was simple enough for its limit on human interaction to handle.

The stranger woke up, hissing and growling demands like a wild cat, really. Throughout the ordeal, Alba stood right in front of the stranger with a kind smile and cold eyes, resting against a table and held its ground as the ever unmoving wall of the princess behind its back to the onslaught of the other party. 

It was ok because Alba more or less understood the stranger before it to a certain degree.

Anger boiling underneath those hidden sharp eyes.

Not that it understood what that person was angry about. Not its problem.

It was still more than enough material for Alba to work with.

Still—.

Still—.

_Still—._

This back and forth straightforward conversation, surprisingly, wasn’t comfortable for it, but also was nowhere far from awkward. Alba found itself stumbling from time to time, pausing a bit too long at where there should exist a comeback or a retort, to which hime-chan readily filled in from time to time, dragging out a joke or some nonsense that felt emptier and stagnant than it should be. At some point, Alba realized that it was waiting for an unprovoked punch out of nowhere, and was horrified at itself for even anticipated that.

How could it, a sadist, want to receive violent action from a person it didn’t even know?

There existed a sense of wrongness again.

Their first conversation with each other was stressful and uncomfortable.

Alba didn’t know one can hate something so much.

**15/**

_They remembered nothing._

Correction _. He remembered nothing._

For the first time since its sixteenth-year mark of self-awareness, Alba furrowed its eyebrows, minoring the opposite growing frown on the person's face. 

“...Creasion?”

…What was with this person? He didn’t even sound confident with the very work he just uttered.

“Creasion, as in after the legendary hero name?”

“Wow, your old pops must have some big expectations for you—.”

“Shut it Alles.”

The other seemed to be offended now, protesting that it was his name. But the confusing frown on his face wouldn’t fool anyone.

“...Creasion.”

“What?”

“Creasion.”

Voice raised a bit higher. Annoyed. “What’s your problem?”

“Creasion.” Its throat felt dry.

“...”

“Creasion.”

A blood vein popped up on the man's head. Alba paid him no mind.

The word was foreign on its tongue, clustered and bitter.

Alba gave him the brightest smile it could afford. “Sorry! I always call you “soldier” so I want to practice saying your name after all!”

The confusion was crystal clear on the man’s face now.

It faked a scandalous gasp. “You’ve also forgotten about our time together? All the sweetness and bitterness of our adventure? I’m deeply hurt, soldier.”

The corner of the man’s lips twitched in annoyance once, twice before broke off in a waterfall of curses and accusations. Now that, Alba thought, was the hostility it was somewhat used to.

Somehow, the hatred in its heart became bitter resentment. But for what and why, Alba wasn’t certain.

**16/**

The other male, despite all the objections and confusion, yielded to its barging insistence at everything.

_You’re not supposed to yield so easily—._

Despite all the odds, Alba assigned him to be its soldier, much to the other objection. But what could they do, really, for the fame Alba would always get what he wanted in the end, through one mean or another.

(It felt good, not having to hold back at all around this fail expectation.

Besides, the three burs when Alba forced him to get a new haircut eased something inside it greatly. And the flabbergasted expression of the other man afterward was so amusing.)

It gained benefit from having an extra party member and its soldier during the journey could seek out more information about the world and himself. The latter could never be done when Alba kept purposely steering them both away from any site that could have a connection to that old dusty heroic tale.

_You’re supposed to invite yourself into my life—._

The fire burnt and turned into silent resentment.

**17/**

Three months.

They traveled together for two months. 

The soldier said he did not trust it, wouldn’t. Alba didn’t press for the whys, for it was completely understandable.

They never touch the subject again.

Its soldier was good, exceptional even, at battle and bargaining even more than it was. Alba wasn't surprised, only mildly amused at the other capabilities, and a week after their departure Alba voiced its suggestion of letting the soldier take charge of their humble party schedules, from resupplying to fighting roles when they encounter monsters along the way, much to the soldier's chagrin. And if forced to say it, Alba would admit having someone else on the usual lonely road does feel nice. The soldier is quiet and aloof, but most of the time, he was _kind_ , even to the point where at one time, after they feinted off a horde of demons from a village, he dragged Alba back by hand and told him to stay still to amuse the village’s kids with their gratitude in forms of garlands and baked sweet potatoes. But—.

But—.

_But—._

It was foreign.

(“ _You do realize that if you want to leave, you’re free to do so, right?”_

_“...It’s not like I have anywhere else to go.”)_

As much as Alba took pleasure in watching its soldier getting all angry and flustered with its probing and occasional harassment, there was still a feeling lurking in its mind, telling Alba that all of _this_ , of this life as a traveler and these back-and-forth conversations of a comedic duo, that this life was _all wrong_. But at the time Alba didn’t understand how or why not could it ever shake the sense of wrongness away, that the reality it had known was wrong but the same time wasn’t. At the same time, Alba couldn’t see itself behave in any other way, yet it always expected its soldier to finally push back and make fun of it instead, to be someone other than himself; such a hypocrite Alba was. But at the end of the day, it was always him that yielded and Alba once again had a more solid footing in this invisible game of tug-o-war that usually left Alba feeling like a stranger in its body.

They weren’t close, not yet. Not with a strained atmosphere hanging over their heads when the sun rises once more and Alba kept missing a beat in their short routines, hanging in this empty void of a conversation where it always finds itself waiting for another small present to invite _herself_ into, before awkwardly continues its sentence like it was nothing, avoiding its soldier more observing and concerning gaze. But Alba never let him hold that gaze for too long, so it was all good. 

Despite how Alba never called the other “Creasion” nor did he call it “Alba”.

It was all good.

_(But somehow, it still yearned._

_The fire, steadily and quietly, kept burning its soul away.)_

**18/**

“You… were idiotic, do you know that?” Voiced a complaint, dry and monotone as always. Alba waved its bandaged right hand at its soldier, wanting to flash a dismissive smile too but couldn’t, its jaw ached and the henge still felt like it was going to shatter any moment.

“I dunno what are you talking about. I succeeded in stopping those tornadoes and the demon responsible for that, didn’t I?”

“Then trash one-four of a port city, costing all your mana as well as your arm. Are you happy now?” The soldier said, a scowl on his face as he leaned down to check if the bandage was secured. He was no less beat up than Alba, taking the roles of ground control and soothing crying children - something it never was good at.

Black hair, coarse and dried with the sand from the road, brushed past its cheek, and Alba thought it was supposed to feel something, flustered maybe, like how a normal person would be when in close proximity, like how many other Albas other than it would be, but it was not. 

Urk, it truly didn’t want to speak right now.

Though…

Alba hummed.

It supposed a little something amusing wouldn’t hurt.

“Aww, so you do care,” leaning forward, Alba warped its good arm around the other waist and pulled him closer, flashed him white teeth in a teasing manner. “And here I thought you’d be too much of a brute to care about poor old me. Or are you taking advantage of my wounded condition now, hm? I can’t say I minded.”

Its soldier pulled a face in distaste and swatted Alba’s head, still put as much force behind it as he hit it the first time; for once in a good long while, it laughed, heartfelt and honest from the bottom of its stony dry heart as Alba did the mocked kissing noise. Its soldier scowled harder, actually looked annoyed now that he was trying to push it away and Alba _gave_ , leaning back back _back_ until it was falling backward and pulled the flustered soldier down into the dry sand along with it. They wrestled like they always did and shared some laughter in Alba’s case, but this time instead of pushing Alba gave and pulled the other in until they both laid down on their back, trying to catch their breath as they stared at the dime purple sky above. 

Alba’s and soldier’s wounds from earlier were ripped open again, blood soaking through its soldier's handy work for the past half hour. They needed to change their bandages before running to the closest inn before nightfall. 

When Alba heard the other barked out a laugh as he sat up and fixed his dirty clothes, it turned its head, about to make a funny jab at his sudden playfulness when it caught glistening clear blues shining down at it from above.

Its breath was taken away for a moment, lost in that clear, beautiful, _otherworldly hue_.

A snicker, soft and quiet but no less playful than before. “What are you staring at now, Hero? Did I finally manage to wear you down this time—.”

Ah.

Mesmerized by how the sunlight framed his silhouette like a halo, Alba’s hand moved before it could even think, brushing ever so lightly over the pale skin underneath the baggy eye bag he apparently couldn’t lose despite how much he slept. But it was a facial feature on _its Creasion_ and unless he wanted to change Alba wouldn’t have it any other way.

Alba’s brain kicked in mere seconds later and it started to regret wearing thick gloves right now—.

The other man quickly pulled back to stand up and away from its outreach hand. Voice surprisingly calm and neutral as he turned his back to Alba, face hidden under that tattered old cloak of his. “Quit goofing around and hurry up. If the inn is all booked then I wouldn’t cook anything for you tonight!”

The red tip of pale ears betrayed its owner, however, and Alba couldn’t help but cranked its head and trained its crimson eyes into that one spot.

Oh.

Its hand was still reaching for the shadow of the other person and it found itself missing the light touch already—.

Oh.

_Oh no._

The summer’s sun was warm on its face.

**19/**

Against its better judgment, Alba started to look for many things it failed to see before that day. This was unexpected, mind you, because it always took pride in being a watchful person with great focus. How else could it master magic at such a young age?

_Anyhow._

Alba started to notice a few little things. Of how its soldier eyebrows always furrowed whenever someone bumped into his right side whenever they took the mana stone-fueled train, something he once stated he has never ridden before. How the soldier blows and reprimands at its brashness and indifference weren’t as harsh as they were used to but the frequency never ceased. Of the bright glint in his ever blue orbs that always lit up like an excited child whenever he ate something sweet like a single ice cream cone with sprinkles; then a lost and almost nostalgic gaze when he had cheese. Of how its soldier started to notice how Alba favored its right side just as how he favored his left and started to position himself accordingly.

But Alba, _it,_ hated taking a train ride for the place was always crowded and the engines always roared loudly in its ears. It could’ve processed others’ emotions and its own, haze and incomprehensible like always drafted in the heavy foggy veil; it couldn’t understand emotions and that was what made the journey with Creasion so fun because their exchanges were always animated and colorful, a harsh contrast to its usual life. It also hated sweet, the confections that somehow always tasted bitter on its tongue and dulled its mind, and the cheese texture of the treats they got always left it melancholy, like aching for a home from an unknown time without knowing why. Its mana was strong, sometimes overwhelmingly so, and by that, it hated fighting side-by-side with somebody else for controlling its mana and magic around others amid the fight was such a hassle.

But—.

But—.

_But—._

Alba also noticed how it was also the one to tease and coaxed the soldier into using magic utilities, one arm draped casually around the other shoulder as an anchor just to see him. Alba noticed how it was Alba itself yielding to its soldier commands as it followed his guidance, and pared its way through complicated conversations with him by its side. Alba started to appreciate the sugary treats more, started to actively seek them out as they traveled between cities and towns, started to appreciate the bitter taste on the tip of its tongue. The comfortable weight behind its back slowly became a source of comfort of knowing there was someone it could rely on, could be its truest self without having to hold back 

Alba started to notice that it was the soldier who made an effort to get more comfortable, as opposed to its stoic self. All because Alba was the only thing Creasion could cling to since he woke up, the only thing Alba ever willing to let Creasion cling onto in fear of…

In fear off…

_In fear off…_

Fear of what? Of how he would remember his past and leave its side? Of how he would retrieve his memories and knew something Alba didn’t? Of how once he gained those he would be able to see through the flimsy cracks in its mask it didn’t bother to fix anymore? Why should it care about those scenarios in the first place, for someone it didn’t, shouldn’t care for _wait, why did it even want to be considerate in the first place—._

Alba silently panicked by its own thought over a fried fish.

Of all the people, why _him?_

**20/**

Alba believed in the ideal of “Soulmates”. That was the very reason why it was where it at in the first place. Someone its soul attuned too, someone its soul longed for. Someone belonged to it as much as Alba belonged to them. Someone it could, would, pledge its life for without any regret. The one who would stand by its side like an ever-trusty sword and the wind upon its back as it chases the sky to the end of the earth.

But its belief was starting to waver. Firstly, in its sixteen years of life. Secondly, when its reds met those ever clear blues. And now this, when it realized it was starting to accept Creasion somewhat brute, muted affection and even returning them back.

And it was dangerous. To Alba’s resolve at going to the Afterlife by forging a bond that would tie it to this world. To the soulmate Alba didn’t get to know, who it didn’t know was born yet or not, who it didn’t know has died yet or not. Who it didn’t know ever existed or not.

So it had to think of something to salvage this situation. And fast.

Forging unnecessary bonds would just make parting hurt, anyway.

**21/**

They dropped by Alba’s birth village, six months after their departure.

The villager welcomed Alba and its companion with open arms without much questions. There was nothing for Alba to complain about, really. Same villagers with porcelain masks hiding their inner jealousy and scathing remarks. The same rundown noodle stands Albas was sure Creasion would love to visit later on. The old mine, full of empty coal carts and malicious mana-filled crystal, was still there by its shabby house when they took the old leafy trail by the mountain. And that was familiar.

Alba couldn’t help but allow itself a smile that wouldn’t reach its eyes. 

Home sweet home.

**22/**

Needless to say, Creasion was baffled at this side of his hero life. At the outride rudeness to the point of disrespect for most of the villagers they had come across on their way to Alba’s old house. And the said house was a surprise in its own right. Roof tiles, broken and greying from weathers, scattered on the front yard leaving little room to move. Green had overgrown and invaded the house, decorating every door and window it could reach with thick leafy vines, which Alba and Creasion had to tear apart. The inside of the house was dark with heavy stagnant air, white cloths covering the spare furniture collecting dust. Had Alba didn’t tell him first hand, he would mistake this as an abandoned house.

Which was exactly the opposite of what he expected from his gleeful charge. 

So far, all the inns they’ve ever booked were luxurious, even for someone with both “Hero” and “Great Mage” titles. When Alba proposed to stop by his childhood village for a while, he had expected a large building with complicated architecture and flashy decorations. Not some rundown place behind a mountain.

But even so…“Seeing how you always refuse to clean up after yourself, it’s truly no wonder your home is that rat hole,” Said Creasion with his nose scrunched up, a foot warily nudging a questionable pile of moldy clothing on the floor.

All he received in return was the ever bright smile and a prompt to clean up this place for the time being.

Thinking back, he should’ve noticed the dark expression hidden beneath those eyes.

**23/**

Two months.

They spent - or rather, wasted - two months in Alba’s old house.

Unlike the constant irregular schedules when they were both on the road, everything quickly fell into a routine that felt both comfortable and uneasy. Comfortable, because things had become much more predictable, easier to anticipate. Uneasy, because of how easy it was for things to just lick, that Creasion couldn’t help but think of it as the calm before the storm.

Waking up in the morning with birds chirping outside the window and sunlight greeting his eyelids was nice for once. So was the automatic instinct to reorganize everything, cooking breakfast, setting an extra dish for a certain hero who refused to come out of his room until noon and going for a round of patrol around the village perimeter for any kind of threats. It took Creasion some time to understand his hero’s disdain for most of the villagers when they didn’t bother to hide gossiping whispers behind his back. 

Some of them were nice. The village chief and his wife could bake some delicious apple pie, often giving Alba and Creasion their shares and gratitude for protecting the village during their stay in the form of Earl Grey Tea. The noodle from a stand fifteen minutes walk away from the house was delicious, and its owner often enthusiastically telling them stories from travelers who happened to stop by.

The only place he hadn’t explored yet was the village humble bookstore. 

“There’s nothing of value or good in there anyway,” Alba once said in a pleasant afternoon, eyes still glued to a book he refused to let Creasion take a look at, several crumbled notes with chicken scramble scattered around his feet. “Nothing but termites and dust since its owner passed away.”

There were also many things to do in Alba’s house anyway. Besides the bookshelf dedicated to topics about mana and magic, there were also several books about mathematics, geometry, and some romantic books to Creasion surprise. (Who would have thought his hero would have _Jane Eyre_ and _Pride and Prejudice_ with several bookmarked pages, and a _Gone with the wind_ with a worn leather cover on his _yet another bookshelf_.) The yard behind the house also had a dummy and training equipment. Should he ever get bored, he could just sleep on a strangely comfy couch shaped like a slime by the fireplace or call Alba out to test a new recipe for fish dishes. 

He was a bit happy to know that, even when holed up for most of the daytimes in his room, Alba still answered his call.

So, life here for a while, remained uneventful and boring just like that.

**24/**

None of them at that time knew that uneventful, boring life was all they truly cared for.

For it didn’t matter.

**25/**

Creasion was left to his own devices to freely roam the house as long as he stays in there. He could do whatever he wanted with it, burn the house down even - not that he ever would want to but still, just in case - but there was one place Alba specifically stated to him not to enter at any cost.

Down the hall and turn the left corner was Alba’s room. He didn’t get any explanation, only that Alba’s room was out of the question. Creasion never questioned why either. He understood that the bedroom is a private zone, where one stores their most important things there. He himself wasn’t interested in any of his charge’s belonging nor its value.

But he was curious still. 

Because what creation could occupy Alba’s interest enough for him to hole up in there for days on end.

And he was a little bored since there was nothing much he could do, with the village’s library long closed before and there weren’t many monster extermination quests for him to do anymore. Idling around wasn’t his style.

And this house felt far too empty despite all the cramped space.

**26/**

One day, on a rare occasion where Alba would volunteer to go into the village to get them both the best noodle he had ever tasted, Creasion went into Alba’s room. Maybe it was because the curious was eating away his mind, maybe because it was boring, and lazing around on the slime-shaped couch didn’t fit the bill anymore. Maybe it was the summer heat that got to his mind and erased any kind of cold head decision.

But none of that mattered.

There was a lock, unsurprisingly, but it was just a normal metal lock and so Creasion easily picked it under a minute. Took a deep breath, hand on the door handle, he turned the cold handle and entered.

And found himself blinking in astonishment.

A bed with a thick grey mattress and an equally dull blanket. A simple white wooden table with a single drawer, scattered on the surface were some books, pens, and weird gems. In the middle of the room, a rune circle with patterns Creasion had never seen before written in charcoal, the only black shade in the room. There was no mirror, but there was a window, and even that was closed shut, grey-white painting covering the glass.

The walls are just stone, grey and cold.

A vast empty space of pure grey and white.

**27/**

A numb and confused “huh?” almost tumbled out of his throat. Swallowing down a lump forming in his throat.

Creasion had expected to see Alba just as extravagant as the rest of the house after their cleaning session, decorating extricated gold and silver. Anything else was better than… than…

It was suffocating, despite all the empty space. 

There got to be more in this room, Creasion reassured himself, a hand smoothing over his chest, where his heart had begun beating wildly the moment he took in the room. So, carefully dodging the rune circle and a book by it with - was that a dark magic sigil on the cover? - he approached the table and the bed. Hand running on the uneven surface of the wall to scan for any hidden mechanism.

Nothing. Just plain dull walls that felt like it was closing down on him as each second passed. Nothing in the drawer, either, full of empty notebooks and pencils.

Irritated, Creasion plopped down on the grey bed. 

Despite its appearance, the bed is strangely soft and warm. As if this was a bed made just for him. And the feeling on his back was more than enough to lull him into a sense of security his eyelids almost dropped. The mattress didn’t smell like anything, felt so clean and warm against his cheek, feeling like he could drown in this endless softness.

There was something under the single pillow. He reached underneath it. And pulled out a thick book. The red-colored flame drawn on the cover is a relief in this colorless room. His eyes were drawn to the single letter imprint in gold.

“Creasion.”

His name.

Coincidentally, also the name of the game legendary heroes the children usually role-play with each other in their little games.

He opened to a random page.

The content was kept in an immaculate state. Not a single stain or wrinkle or even dented mark from a bookmark. The yellowing pages felt loved, cherished.

So Creasion flipped back to the first page and started reading from there.

**28/**

Creasion didn’t know how many hours or minutes had passed since he read the book, but when he finally looked up, irritation and some unknown feeling swam in the deep of his blue eyes. His foggy mind was clearer than before, and he was angrier than he had ever been in his life, ever since Crea-.

At that moment, the door slammed open.

It was all thanks to pure instinct he was able to dodge the familiar pointy end of a silver lance, his awareness so sluggish after all the information he just managed to recover.

Creasion snapped his eyes to face the other person. To snap at him, yell at him, whatever, for how dare he keep _him_ from regaining what he rightfully have?

Only for his blues to meet the other reds, and saw the seething fury he never saw from the other before.

Creasion might be dared to say that the feeling in his chest at the moment was anger and disappointment.

(Deep down, there was some sense of loneliness.

So he wasn’t excluded from this person’s wrath, either.)

**29/**

The moment the seal on the door was disrupted, Alba immediately broke into a sprint. Everything in its arms, forgotten.

_Why would someone ever want to go into its bedroom?_

It couldn’t be a thief, when it left all of its gold and valuables in the kitchen. If it was paperwork that they wanted, just go to the bookshelf in the living room. Its soldier definitely wouldn’t let a rat slipped through when he’s the one on watch—

It couldn’t be.

It mustn’t be.

Storming through the front door, not even bothering to kick off the muddy boots, Alba marched to his bedroom, his silver lance brandished in one hand, a spell prepared in another. Tossing all rational thinking aside, it kicked open the door.

Never before had Alba felt so angry in its pitiful life.

_Nobody goes into its bedroom without permission._

_Nobody._

The first attack missed its mark, rewarding Alba with a blanket thrown into its face. Letting out a snarl, it wretched the offending thing out of its face.

Facing a furious pair of blues on the opposite.

Alba’s fury, as fast as how it built up, sizzled put like a fickle candle.

The lance, gripped so tight in its palm until the knuckles turned white, clattered to the ground as Alba finally noticed the open book on the bed.

**30/**

“Are you out of your mind? Why would you go in here!?”

“Why am I not allowed to go in here!?” The corner of Creasion eyes twitched. If Alba wanted a shouting match, so be it. It seemed like this _brat_ needed a good knocking on his thick skull before he started asking questions.

Alba opened its mouth, then shut it. Opened its mouth again, shut it again. There were so many reasons why it didn’t want Creasion to go in here. ( _There was absolutely no reason for Creasion_ not _to go in here.)_ There were so many things both it and Creasion wanted to say, so many things to sort out. But Creasion still looked angrier than it, his stand and eyes were so much firmer and the feeling of defeat in Alba’s stomach sank much deeper.

So, instead of having a mature conversation as they should do, Alba lunged to grab at Creasion forearms.

And forcefully, literally, tossed the now confused man out of the door. Eyes now stone cold and emotionless as it watched the other man quickly gained his footing.

_He isn’t them._

“Leave,” the voice sounded cold to even its ears. “I’m sorry for keeping you with me. Leave.”

_He isn’t him._

“ **Leave!** ”

_Not important._

_Not what it’s looking for._

_So there’s no need to feel guilty._

Refused to acknowledge the other protest, Alba slammed the door close on his face. Closed its eyes. And meditate.

The sounds of a fist slamming on the wooden door and muffled shouting fell deaf.

**31/**

Maybe when Alba finally finished its meditation, it was already too late to fix anything. ( _Bit there’s nothing to fix,_ it convinced itself.)

It didn’t know how much time had passed, only that everything was dark when it opened its eyes again.

The door felt cold under its skin as Alba pressed its forehead to it. Slowly, it opened the door. The abused thing let out a mournful cry as the rest of the house darkness greeted Alba.

Alba, now relatively calm, surveyed the house.

The extra traveling bag it bought months ago was gone, so was the extra pair of boots and a sword at the front door. There was some cold food on the dining table, and it tried to ignore how most of it was Alba’s favorite.

Its soldier was gone now. Maybe for good.

So what?

He wasn’t what it was looking for anyway. _Just as how it probably not what he expected anyway._

It still took Alba a few hours to get used to the empty house and the darkness again.

**32/**

Ever since Creasion left, Alba research speed’s on dimensional traveling had greatly increased. It started to understand complicated theories and algorithms he didn’t quite catch before. 

The rune circle was completed. All it needed to do was store up enough mana for it to function. Then, Alba could finally depart.

Sunk into its bed, Alba sighed.

It had been precisely forty-three days since its Creasion left.

Alba didn’t know whether to feel relieved or not, knowing that it would never meet him again. ( _Knowing that he probably wouldn’t know it had gone.)_

Caressing the cover of the old book, Alba closed its eyes. 

And tossed the book to a corner.

_Nothing else should matter to it anymore if it truly wants to cross dimensions._

Using all its will to not crawl to _that_ corner of the room to pick the thing up, Alba turned around and went to sleep.

**33/**

An hour later, Alba got out of the bed in a frenzy to scramble for the book. Heaved a breath of relief when nothing was torn.

Never before was it glad that this book wasn’t a living thing, something that could easily be shattered.

**34/**

Day forty-four, news of clashes between the king’s heroes and the demon king reached its village.

Somebody said that shouldn’t Alba be there for the fight? It was also one of the king’s chosen heroes after all.

All it could answer was a smile it could no longer feel on its face.

**35/**

Day forty-five, it was going into the village to pay homage to what it knew. It was only appropriate, after all. A letter with a big cursed word for the king. Another letter to Hime-chan with a dagger that surely would suit her better than that mechanical disaster of an armor. One last look at the bookstore that forever would gather dust.

It wondered if it should leave something for him too.

Well, its house and everything in it should be his once Alba is gone anyway.

Or so Alba thought until it felt a disruption in the protective barrier around its room again.

With an irritated grumble, it sprinted back to its house. What was wrong with people these days, kept invading its room? There was literally nothing in there and with the completed rune circle, it was akin to going headfirst to their death if not knowing anything about magic—.

It thought it went to a certain man with messy jet black hair and sharp blue eyes.

Alba never had to run that fast before in its sorry life.

**36/**

The sky on top of Alba’s house was pitched black when Alba was back. Some people were surrounding the place, Alba could pick out many familiar ones 

(Alles with concerning looks as she tried to heal Hime-chan wounds, a black hair man accompanied by a strange yellow cat. And a short girl—

Alba took a few seconds to truly look at the blue-haired girl with black wings on her head before resolutely looking away.

Not now.)

Unfazed by the situation, Alba barged into the wreckage despite everyone's protest.

None of them mattered at the moment anyway.

**37/**

“—You— Of all the time you could choose to appear—.”

“—Sorry for being late. Now stop struggling—.”

“—Shouldn’t leave you be from the start—.”

“—Should've done this from the start—.”

“—It was a mistake to just seal you—.”

“—All the damage—.”

“—Haven’t recovered much but—.”

“—This should suffice—.”

By the time Alba reached its bedroom, everything was in motion. The smoke and red glow confirmed to Alba that the spell was already activated, and all the debris from the mana outburst made it hard to see anything properly. But it could make out two blurry figures in the middle of the glowing ring, and that was enough.

For the first time in its life, it acted without thinking.

The searing mana on the center was seething when its hand came into contact with the person inside it. Alba’s mana flown from it to him, to ground them to this reality a bit longer, to give it a bit more time.

Its mind analyzed everything on instinct. The transferring process shouldn’t drain this much mana from the surrounding, the air wasn’t supposed to burn, and it should be a quick process where the caster should have disappeared by the time they finished the final spell. 

Creasion had, somehow, in a short amount of time, had modified the magic rune it had spent _years_ on. Made it into a spell where it would completely erase the target’s existence instead.

Alba didn’t know it should be offended or stupidly proud.

Two pairs of blues snapped to Alba’s reds. Their mouths were moving, may be surprised, maybe cursing.

None of that matters when one existence was at stake.

**38/**

Death, in Alba’s understanding, was a world without the restriction of a body, without the mind, so it was only logical that on the way there everything would be destroyed just as how the spell was eating away at the two bodies now. There was no return from it. The only difference from usual death to this spell was that it still could keep its consciousness and soul if it ever had one.

The thing was, no matter how hard it tried to explain it, _this_ was still death.

Alba chose it not because it was romanticizing the concept of death, absolutely not out of arrogance. It fully understood the harsh barren that awaited it should it choose to go. It was just…

It was just…

_It was just…_

For the missing puzzle piece in its life, Alba only wished to risk everything for this one decision. So it no longer had any lingering regret of not trying.

But Alba was regretting it now.

_He_ regretted ever creating this spell in the first place.

_He_ regretted not fixing what could be fixed.

_He_ regretted not chasing after the thing that, while not what it was seeking for, was the thing for it _and him only._

_He_ regretted ever choosing to become the one it was in the first place.

_But none of those mattered now._

Never before had Alba tried its best at doing anything as it did now, fixing the runes’ structure on the fly.

**39/**

“Are you an idiot or what?”

It could read those unheard words from his lips, as well as shock and resignment marred his face.

Unfazed, it continued.

Alba couldn’t stop the spell, but it could change the final destination.

Another world. Any other existing universe that wasn’t death. Somewhere at some point in another place among this vast multiverse that Alba certain did exist.

So he could return here again.

Gave him a chance again.

Gave itself a chance again.

Neither Creasion nor the other person with him stopping it.

Alba barely managed to finish its work when it ran out of mana. Without enough mana to maintain the protective barrier around itself, the force field violently pushed it backward. 

Its vision was filled with blotted blacks. 

Everything was so loud. Everything was getting dark.

But this low mana level wasn’t critical. It could survive.

Somebody was saying something.

It replied in kind before collapsing.

**39/**

It was the princess' face that greeted Alba when he woke up, hours later after the ordeal.

She along with some others was explaining the situation to Alba, asking him what exactly happened inside that house. 

He was having none of it. They knew they wouldn’t have anything from him if he wasn’t willing, so sooner later, with many apologies, leaving him be. Only Hime-chan, Alles and the girl with blue hair stay. 

In another circumstance, Alba would’ve laughed, chuckle at how familiar that trio was to his faulty memories. Of how in this world he has never been a part of it, would never be. 

And that was ok.

So he took some time to meditate before telling the three his plans.

_After all, Alba doesn’t need to be the hero or protagonist in every tale._

**40/**

It took Alba sixteen days to have everything prepared again. Prepared equipment for the journey back here - he had to take Creasion back home, after all. Recovered his lost mana and stored up some more into small mana crystals. Reworked on his dimension traveling spell but with a different structure and different purpose, now that he had had a better understanding of it. 

Leaving everything for the trio, having faith that they would be the legendary heroes of this world, Alba started the spell again.

The gentle blue glow felt like a gentle embrace when he stepped inside the circle.

Alba used to have nothing besides himself and his hypocrisy. Never had to work for something in his life.

But he supposed he had something to work for.

Something worth chasing for.

Something that might not be the one he seeks out for at the start, but rightfully his.

A purpose for his existence. 

So he set out into another journey, this time with a goal in mind.

**41/**

One second, Alba was standing inside a rune ring.

The next, there was nothing with vast white empty landscapes surrounding him.

Confused, he looks around.

An unnamed voice echoed in his head. Familiar, yet not.

_You’re being unfair, Usurper._

Alba furrowed his eyebrow.

_Do you truly think a merger amount of mana and some rune are enough to do what you want to do? Think, Usurper. Did you truly think those are enough to exchange what is more precious than life itself?_

Ah, so that was it.

He couldn’t exchange his life for this. At least not yet.

_What about half of my many capabilities?_

_Your luck, too?_

_My luck?_ He echoed back.

_Yes, your luck. The very thing that guided you through your younger years even though you were nothing but an orphan. The very thing that gave you whatever you want. The very thing that granted you things many wished to have, but couldn’t._

He frowned. _Have my luck all you, but leave enough so that we can return to our world._

The thing barked out a laughter. _Such a selfish, arrogant prick you ever were! ...Fine, half of your mana and most of your luck._

_But you have to find the path to him first._

Alba paused for a second, then nodded.

_Good luck, Usurper. You will need it._

When he blinked again, a high blue cloudless sky was what greeted him. So different from his world’s purple. Such a familiar hue...

From the edge of his vision, Alba could make out some silhouette. Familiar, but not.

Took in a breath to calm himself, Alba stepped forward.

If he could wait for more than nineteen years, then surely a few more wouldn’t hurt. Especially when that person possibly has waited for him for much longer before.

They had a home waiting for their return, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> [Humming](https://youtu.be/ENcnYh79dUY) [along.](https://youtu.be/nFCGOxvYntE)
> 
> I’m still a little unsatisfied with how I carried this out, like I could do this AU more justice than a short Oneshot. I do have much more content in the outline for this, actually, it those didn’t suit with the story theme, so I edit them out. I dunno, maybe I’ll fished those later and post them as extra? (They’re way more fluffier, I promise.)
> 
> Like, so many unused content! I actually want to explore a bit of 2P Ruki side in the story, she has much role than an Easter Egg in the draft... (She was, after all, hailed as the new Demon Lord for 3 years since the Second “death”, y’know?”). Also, if it isn’t clear yet, then the supposed trio in this universe is Hime/Alles/Ruki. Alba and Creasion is actually more like NPCs or event cutscenes than anything, if we’re talking about it in RPG sense like how hrhr usually does, haha. There’s also some section about 2P Creasion’s POV on this, but it didn’t suit with the atmosphere so I scraped those too.
> 
> Honestly, if you DM me and ask about this AU, I would just spend a whole day and some more rambling about things I couldn’t make it fit into this fic. Haha, you wouldn’t do it tho... unless...? 👀👀
> 
> I might or might not have a WIP for this fic sequel. I dunno, maybe when I’m past my writing block... There’s so many other things I want to do, but it’s hard to managed it all... 
> 
> But rest assure, that once this Alba find his Creasion and they both actually start to hand it like responsible adults, they would live happily ever appear in Alba humble house. Having all the tea, fishes, cheese and noodles they can get their hands on...
> 
> Also the original Demonverse for this is much, much more fluffy and happy than this I swear—


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